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dolevalanTitle: Au première temps de la waltz...
Fandom: Original (with Ravenloft overtones)
Rating: G
Author's Note: Man, writing 14 year old Nicolas is fun. I may have to do it more often.
It was his first party. Well, that was not entirely true. His first party as a young man, with no father at his elbow. And Stella… well, he could feel her looking for a recess in which to wait out the party with the book she’d deftly concealed in the folds of her petticoat. He didn’t worry for his sister; she could take care of herself.
Before she slipped away entirely, he caught her arm. “Do you want a dance sometime tonight, little star?”
She made a face at him. “Don’t call me that in public. And no, that’s not necessary. Just remember to find me before you leave. And behave yourself.”
He grinned in the face of her grimace. “Never.” She rolled her eyes as she slipped off down a side hallway, securing her mask. Nicolas pulled his own over his eyes, the cool silk feeling almost sinful against his skin. He couldn’t explain why he was suddenly so nervous, or even why he was so excited. It was just a party, like any other party. Of course, at this party, there was wine, and there were girls, and there was music. And there was no Father.
The charming half-smile he’d inherited slipped into place a moment after the mask. It said aloof but not unattainable, knowing but not jaded. Or at least, he hoped it did. Mentally, if not physically holding his breath, he strode towards the sound of dancing and laughter coming from the ballroom ahead. He just needed to keep telling himself he wasn't a hick of a rancher’s son. He was a sophisticated nobleman, even if he was only half a Vaasi nobleman. And noblemen were definitely not afraid to talk to girls.
He might even dance with one.
Fandom: Original (with Ravenloft overtones)
Rating: G
Author's Note: Man, writing 14 year old Nicolas is fun. I may have to do it more often.
It was his first party. Well, that was not entirely true. His first party as a young man, with no father at his elbow. And Stella… well, he could feel her looking for a recess in which to wait out the party with the book she’d deftly concealed in the folds of her petticoat. He didn’t worry for his sister; she could take care of herself.
Before she slipped away entirely, he caught her arm. “Do you want a dance sometime tonight, little star?”
She made a face at him. “Don’t call me that in public. And no, that’s not necessary. Just remember to find me before you leave. And behave yourself.”
He grinned in the face of her grimace. “Never.” She rolled her eyes as she slipped off down a side hallway, securing her mask. Nicolas pulled his own over his eyes, the cool silk feeling almost sinful against his skin. He couldn’t explain why he was suddenly so nervous, or even why he was so excited. It was just a party, like any other party. Of course, at this party, there was wine, and there were girls, and there was music. And there was no Father.
The charming half-smile he’d inherited slipped into place a moment after the mask. It said aloof but not unattainable, knowing but not jaded. Or at least, he hoped it did. Mentally, if not physically holding his breath, he strode towards the sound of dancing and laughter coming from the ballroom ahead. He just needed to keep telling himself he wasn't a hick of a rancher’s son. He was a sophisticated nobleman, even if he was only half a Vaasi nobleman. And noblemen were definitely not afraid to talk to girls.
He might even dance with one.
